


Be a Good Little Soldier

by ccharliee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Child Dean, Child Neglect, Child Sam, Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, John is a horrible father, Physical Abuse, Potential Triggers, Verbal Abuse, favoring one child over the other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccharliee/pseuds/ccharliee
Summary: John Winchester is so hell bent on finding whatever killed his wife, he leaves young Dean to raise Sam. Whenever he does decide to show up, however, he treats his eldest son like a soldier, barking orders and expecting them to be followed. Dean struggles to live with his father and similtaneously take care of his beloved baby brother, trying to teach him what a good life is when he doesn't know himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a new work for y'all! I don't really know where this's gonna go on the end, I'm kinda winging it. You can send suggestions for future chapters, though, so feel free! Not guaranteed I'll use it, but the worst I can do is say no. Enjoy, guys!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's flying the boys out to California, he caught wind of some demonic omens. Dean thought the airport would be the least of his worries, he's much more afraid of the flight, but that may not be the case.

“Get in the car, Dean. Demonic omens in California. We’re flying.” John barked to Dean, who had just finished brushing his teeth in the motel bathroom.

Dean looked at the ground, shameful. “Dad, I don't like flying…”

“We aren't going to waste valuable time just because you're a baby and scared of flying. Go get Sammy, we’re leaving as soon as you get in the car.” 

“Can't me and Sam stay with Uncle Bobby?” Dean asked. 

John’s eyes darkened. “Don't talk back and do what I say.” 

“Yessir…” Dean muttered and shoved his stuff into a small duffel. Two shirts, a pair of jeans, some socks, boxers, and a small handgun. The only possessions the seven year old had. 

He picked up Sam from the little nest of blankets he put together for him the night before, since Sam kept getting cold. “Morning, Sammy.” He smiled. 

Sam whimpered and rubbed his eyes. Being only three, he didn't quite understand what his family did yet. He also didn't grasp that this wasn't normal, hopping from town to town, living in motels and never having a real home. “Tired…” 

“Yeah, me too, but we’ve gotta go, okay? Dad’s taking us on a plane to California.” He slung the duffel over one shoulder, Sam in the other arm. Sam slumped against his older brother, nuzzling into the warmth. Dean smiled and walked out to the car, opening the back door and buckling in Sam. He then closed the door, opening the front door and climbing in to sit next to his father. He wasn't yet tall enough to see over the dash, but his father insisted on having him there so he could keep an eye on him.

The engine of the Impala rumbled, and the radio played “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi, which Dean personally thought had been over played lately (but still liked it anyways). John mouthed the words as he pulled out of the lot, starting their trip to the airport. 

Dean fidgeted with a strap of the duffel at his feet, nervous about flying on the plane. He knew he'd have to be brave, for Sammy if no one else, but he hated flying with a passion. It made him feel vulnerable, not in power of the situation. 

“I'm hot…” Sam complained from the back seat. Dean reached over to roll down his window. August was hot in Alabama, where they'd stayed for a week or so to hunt a rugaru. Dean had been instructed to stay “home” with Sam, where his father had stashed gasoline and a lighter by the door just in case the rugaru decided to show while he wasn't home. 

•••

After a long drive, they arrived at the airport. “Get our bags and head in, I'm gonna pack some tools. Take Sam, here's a few bucks for lunch.” John handed Dean a $10 bill, then got out and headed to the trunk. Dean picked up his Dad’s bag and his duffel, then picked up Sam’s tiny backpack and handed it to him. He got out of the car and unbuckled Sam, grabbing his hand and helping him out of the car. 

Sam’s stomach growled and he grunted. “Can we get food?” 

“Mhm. That's what Dad gave us money for. Let's go, bud.” Dean smiled at his brother. “Want me to carry you or can you walk?”

“Walk.” Sam was pretty independent. He had to be, since Dad left them alone so often, though he was very shy in public. 

They walked through the parking garage and entered the airport, and Dean suddenly got a lot more nervous. Sam looked up and saw his brother’s worried face, and gave his hand a squeeze. Dean jumped a bit and looked down, but upon seeing Sam’s comforting face, calmed himself. 

As they walked to the food court, something caught Sam’s eye. A stand selling little teddy bears, with the word Alabama stitched into a tiny blue sweater it wore. His steps slowed as his desire grew. 

“You okay, Sam?” Dean looked in the direction Sam was looking in, and also saw the stand. “...Do you want one?” 

Sam nodded. Dean sighed a little and looked to see how much they cost. $5.

“Sam, I…” he looked down. “Okay. You can have one.” He walked up to the counter and stood on his tiptoes. “Can I have one please?” he slid the $10 onto the counter. 

“Sure. Where's your ma and pa?” The clerk asked, her blue eyes looked concerned. 

“...Um, my dad's outside. I don't have a mom. Can I have my change please?” Dean looked embarrassed. The clerk was flustered. 

“Ah, yeah, sorry ‘bout your ma.” the lady gave him the change, $5, and grabbed a bear off the rack. “Here ya go. Have a nice trip, kid.” She smiled. Dean just nodded, handing the bear to Sam and heading to the food court. 

Sam smiled, clutching the bear tightly with his free hand, and spoke. “Thank you, Dean.” He then frowned. “Up?” 

“Sure, Sam.” Dean stopped and picked up his brother, carrying him the rest of the way. “So what do you want to eat? There's grilled cheese, chicken nuggets, a burger…” 

Sam's face wrinkled in thought. “Chicken nuggets? Please?” He added as an afterthought. 

“Alrighty.” then he saw on the menu the kids meals were $3, so there was no way he could afford food for himself. But he knew it was his job to take care of Sam, so he could suffer through. 

Dean was already a skinny kid, 4’2” and 45 pounds, while his brother verged on pudgy. He wouldn't call him spoiled, because of their family’s situation, but he sure could get what he wanted, being the baby of the family. 

Dean ordered the food for his brother, and when Sam asked what he was getting for himself, Dean responded with a simple shrug and “I'm not hungry.” It was his go to excuse. 

Watching Sam eat was tough, seeing as Dean hadn't eaten anything in over 36 hours, but he endured to make sure his brother was okay. He saw John marching through the airport like a soldier, and remembered the bear. 

“Sam, put that in your backpack.” Dean commanded. He knew he would get reprimanded if his father saw it, spending money on things they didn't need was against the rules of their family. 

“Why?” Sam questioned, but Dean had already snatched the bag and was unzipping it. 

“Give it to me, Sam! Please!” Dean whisper-yelled. 

Sam frowned. “Fine.” He handed over the bear and Dean shoved it into the bag. 

John arrived at their table, leaning against the chair Sam was sitting in. “Finish your food, Sammy. Plane’s leaving soon.” He turned his head to Dean. “Change?” 

“Yessir.” He pulled the $2 from his pocket and handed it to his father. John looked at the money and then at the menu. “Dean, you should've spent $6. You spent $8. What happened?” His glare was like daggers, searching for an answer. 

“U-Um, I ordered a grown up meal, Dad.” Dean lied, and Sam gave him a strange look but didn't say anything. 

“You shouldn't have. Now I can't afford food.” John’s voice lowered. “Don't be greedy next time.” 

Dean looked at his feet. “I’m sorry, Dad…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being sent to wait in the terminal, a startled Sam began to cry and refused to stop. Dean, in a panic, recieves help, but his father doesn't agree with his desision.

“Take the bags to the terminal. Make sure Sam doesn't get lost.” John commanded. “And don't fuck up like last time, get it?”

“Yessir.” Dean nodded, picking up his sleepy brother. “When will you be back?”

“Soon. I need to give Rufus some advice, he called me a couple minutes ago.” John looked at his watch. “I won't be long.” 

Sam whined and Dean waved to his father. He started to head towards the terminal. “You can sleep soon, Sammy. Just hold on.” 

When they arrived, he sat in a blue chair within a long row of duplicates, many other travelers seated near them. He placed Sam in his lap, where he buried his face into his big brother's shoulder and promptly fell asleep. 

Dean smiled, growing tired himself. He knew he had to force himself to stay awake, Sam could run off or be in danger if he let down his guard. 

After 15 minutes or so of peace, Sam awoke with a start and began to cry. His little hands clung to Dean’s flannel, shaking. “What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?” he tried to relax the boy by rubbing his back, but that didn't seem to work. 

Dean started to panic as people started to stare. “S-Sam, shhh, you're okay…” But he kept crying. And crying. And crying. Eventually, a man in his early forties, about, walked over to the kids. 

“Can't seem to calm him down? Toddlers are tough, I had three of my own.” he smiled a bit, then looked confused. “Where’re your folks?” 

“My dad’s on the phone with his, uh, friend, and my mom isn't here anymore.” Dean glanced away. 

“Sorry about that, kid. Want me to take your brother for a sec? I'll take good care of ‘im, see if I can calm him down.” his face glowed with friendliness. Dean knew he shouldn't, but he felt he could trust this man. 

“Um, yeah, here.” He held out Sam to the man and he took him gently, cradling him with expert arms. 

“You're okay, you're awake now. It was all just a bad dream,” he cooed. Soon enough, Sam seemed to relax and ceased his crying. Sam reached for Dean and the adult handed him back. 

“Thank y-”

“DEAN WINCHESTER!” John boomed. Dean jumped and spun around. The outburst startled Sam, but he stayed silent. 

“Y-Yessir?” Dean met the gaze of his father anxiously. John snatched Sam away from Dean.

“Can I not trust you with anything?!” He ushered Dean away from the man. “You're not to give Sam to anyone without my permission. What if he'd been a demon?” he hissed. 

“But Dad, he wouldn't stop cryi-” he felt a painful slap on his wrist after his arm had been yanked by his father. He whimpered, lower lip trembling, holding back tears. 

“You’re getting twenty when we get off the plane.” he ran a finger over his heavy leather belt. 

“D-Dad, no, please!” Dean let the tears through, choking on sobs. His nose was running and he was a mess.

“Dean. Get a hold of yourself. Now.” John’s voice was low and menacing. 

The man from before stepped up. “Hey, he's only a kid, don't be so harsh on him.” He said, apparently a little to coldly for John’s liking. 

His head spun around to face the brown haired man. “Are you telling me how to parent my children?” he snapped. 

“No, just suggesting you give him a break. He looks exhausted.” he said, gently as possible. 

John put Sam down and shoved the man, growling. “I won't have some stranger tell me what to do. Dean can handle it. That's what he’s trained to do.”

Dean sniffled. Weren't dogs supposed to be trained, not humans? Was he only as good as a dog? Surely little Sammy wasn't being trained, John obviously loved him. Does Dad not love Dean, perhaps?

Just then a security guard grabbed John by the shoulder. “Mister, step back.” John looked offended and shook the guard off of him. “I'm afraid we have to ask you to leave. We’ve gotten many complaints.” 

“Excuse me? I paid for my flight. I'm boarding.” John said with a spark of rage. 

“Sir, we need you to go. We’ll refund you in full.” The guard assured him. 

John’s jaw clenched. “Fine.” he picked up a shaking Sam and grabbed Dean’s hand roughly and dragged him along. 

“Dad! My backpack!” Sam looked towards the seats. He'd left his bag over there. 

“It's too late now. We’ll get you a new one.” John tried to keep calm. Tears pricked the corners of Sam’s eyes once again. 

“B-But Dad!” he wailed. His big brother couldn't bear to hear him cry, not again, so he pulled his hand free from John’s with one swift motion and bolted back to pick up Sam’s backpack. He ran back as fast as he could, slinging the bag over his shoulder. 

“I got it, Sammy. You're okay. Don't cry…” 

Sam rubbed a tear off his cheek and smiled. “Thank you, Dean.” 

John was furious now. “That’s 50 now, for getting us kicked out and disobeying orders multiple times.” He forced through gritted teeth. 

Dean trembled as John took his hand again. “I'm sorry, Daddy…” John said nothing and rushed them out to the Impala. Once they got there, Dean reached for the front door handle as usual, but John objected. 

“You're in the back. I don't want you near me right now.” John’s voice trembled, sounding almost sad. Dean didn't say a word and obeyed, stepping to the back and pulling himself in. He slammed the door shut and leaned his head against the window. 

Sam climbed in next to him and scanned over Dean’s upset looking body. He reached out to poke him, then took his hand in his own smaller one. “I love you, Dean.” Sam whispered, quiet enough so John couldn't hear. 

“Love you too, Sammy.”

•••

John was blasting music loud enough so that the boys couldn't hear his quiet tears. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out of the window. This is the opposite kind of parent he wanted to become. He hated himself for it. His mind battled itself, arguing between actually carrying out punishments he threatened and not, but he usually leaned towards yes. He didn't want his kids to be afraid of nothing. He needed control. 

Dean was asleep, head still resting on the windowpane and hand still entwined with his brother's. Sam was awake, watching cars and people outside and inquiring himself about everything. 

He stored away questions he would ask Uncle Bobby when he next saw him, such as “Why do birds have feathers?” and “How do sidewalks get made?” The list went on and on with Sam, he questioned everything and anything he laid eyes on. Bobby said it was one of his greatest features, and that it would make him a very smart man someday. 

Sometimes he felt that Uncle Bobby thought better of him and his brother than his own father, but rejected the thought almost immediately. His father just wanted what was best for Dean, even if he may be harsh sometimes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean recieves his (maybe not deserved) punishment after arriving at a new motel, and when he wakes he gets a welcomed surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! sorry it's been a while ^^' but I'm on April vacation now, so I'll be able to write some more now! enjoy ❤

The Winchesters arrived at a new motel, the sign reading ‘Night Owl’ in curly, neon blue letters. The boys were asleep, it was pretty late at night, and John checked in to the motel and bought a room for a few nights. He then headed back to the car to rouse them. 

“Boys. Wake up.” He shook Dean’s shoulder gently, and he grumbled. 

“Are we there yet?” Dean blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the last traces of sleep left in his mind. 

“Yeah. Wake up your brother and come into room four. I'll get our stuff.” He tried to be soft with the kid, the words of the man had gotten to him. He was just a kid. Not a punching bag, or a nanny for his brother. 

“Okay…” Dean poked Sam’s cheek. “Wake up, sleepy head. We're at the motel.” Sam awoke with a jump, which he pretty much always did. He was scared of what would be next to him when he woke. 

He yawned and squeezed his eyes shut once he was sure it was Dean. Sighing, his big brother picked him up, slinging him over his shoulder and climbing out of the Impala. He pushed the door shut and carried him inside. He placed him gently down on one of the twin beds, tucking him into the blankets. Before long, he was asleep once again. 

“So um… Dad?” Dean said quietly. 

“Yes?” John turned his head away from the wall he was taping newspaper articles onto. 

“I… I'm sorry about the airport… I ruined it for all of us.” His head hung low. “And I'm ready for my punishment now…” 

John shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, son. Stand in front of me.” He took of his belt and held it folded in half in his right hand. 

Dean scurried over to his father and took off his shirt like he knew he was supposed to. John put his hand in front of Dean’s mouth and breathed in. “One.” A quick bite of the leather into the bare skin of his back. Dean jumped, biting down on his lip. “Two.” Another smack. “Three.” And the pain continued for the longest twenty minutes either of them had experienced. When they were finished, Dean’s back was red and swollen, tears ran down his face, and his nose was dripping. He choked on half sobs, shaking as he put his shirt back on. 

“Go to bed, Dean.” John said steadily. Dean climbed into bed, shivering and in pain. He laid on his stomach to avoid the pain of raw skin against rough linens. Sam was still sleeping, oblivious to the pain Dean had endured. His face was smushed into the pillows, fingers wrapped tightly around the thick blanket on top of him. He moved closer to his brother's, seeking comfort in the warmth he gave off. His tears dried into salty streams on his cheeks. His breathing slowed, and the pain numbed. 

Eyelids drooping, he fell into sleep, exhausted and hurt. John, however, lay awake. His actions haunted him. He didn't want to be a bad father, but didn't have any guide. His father had left when he was very young. Henry Winchester, Men of Letters. He left without an explanation, leaving him with his mother, and that was all. All his own boys had was a father, and a bad one at that. He often thought it would be better for them to just live with Bobby, but he didn't want to drop all of that into his lap. He had enough to deal with already. 

He forced all thoughts out of his mind and pulled the comforter over himself. He flicked off the lamp on the bedside table and fell silently asleep. 

•••

Dean awoke with a start to the sound of a car horn outside, jumping into a sitting position. He ran to the window, pulling open the shades, when he saw a familiar old truck. 

“Uncle Bobby!” Dean smiled and opened the door. He padded across the pavement with bare feet and hugged the man. 

“Easy, boy.” Bobby chuckled. “Where's your dad?” 

“I dunno. I'm pretty sure he's awake.” Dean replied, happy to see a friendly face. 

He grinned. “Well he must be, he called me at about six o’clock this morning. Too early, if ya ask me.” 

“Why?” Dean asked. 

“Probably wants me to take care of ya’s while he hunts somethin’. You know him, not wantin’ his boys hurt.” 

‘If he doesn't want us hurt, why'd he hurt me last night?’ Dean thought, but quickly pushed the thought out of his head. 

“Yeah. Come inside! Sammy will wanna see you.” He grabbed Bobby’s hand and led him inside. He went to shake Sam awake. 

“Aw, I'm sure he could wait to see me.” Bobby laughed a little. “Let ‘im get a good rest. He must be tired, with all that travelin’ y’all do.” 

Dean nodded a bit. “Sorry.” He looked around. “Where's Dad?” 

“I dunno, son. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me.” Bobby also glanced around the motel. 

“Dad?” Dean called. Then the door opened, Dean jumping and instinctively pulling a silver knife from his back pocket.

John raised his hands up. “Dean, calm down. It's just me.” He smiled. “Hey, Bobby. Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah yeah, cut the crap. What do ya need?” 

John rolled his eyes a little. “Good to see you, too. I need you to watch the boys for awhile, I'm going to California. I tried to bring them and it… didn't go too well.” He shot a glare at Dean. The little hunter felt his face heat up and quickly turned away. 

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “California? Did you find a case?” 

“Yeah. Sort of last minute, sorry. Can you take ‘em or no?” 

Bobby huffed. “Yeah, I can take ‘em. Try to give me more of a warnin’ next time. Barely got any food for them.” Bobby was famous for always having a fully stocked fridge when the boys were over. 

“Uncle Bobby?” Sam spoke, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Morning, Sammy. You ready to come stay with me for a while?” Bobby smiled warmly at him. 

“Is Dean coming?” Sam asked. Bobby nodded in response. “Then yeah.” He smiled back. 

“Now Dean. You take care of Sam, be good.” John ordered. 

“Yessir.” Dean replied, eager to leave. 

“Alrighty then, let's get going. C’mon, boys.” Bobby loaded the kids and their bags into in the driver's seat. Dean was happy he could escape from the harsh hand of his father for a while. He stretched and yawned, snuggling up next to Sam. Sam giggled. 

“Dean’s the sleepyhead, now!” He giggled some more and ruffled Dean’s light brown hair. Dean smiled and nodded. 

“Mhm. I am sleepy.” Dean yawned again. Sam did as well, they always said it was contagious. 

“You boys can sleep. It's a long haul to my place.” Bobby called from the front. 

“‘Kay,” Dean replied. He pulled off his jacket and draped it over his shoulders like a blanket and closed his eyes. He leaned on Sam’s shoulder. The sound of the truck buzzing along the road lulled him to sleep, snoring softly. Sam was content, smiling when Dean would shiver and snuggle up closer. 

“So, Sammy, you awake?” Bobby asked from the front seat, craning his neck to look at him. 

“Mhm.” Sam answered, yawning a bit.

Bobby chuckled. “Not for long, I see.” He reached his arm out and patted Sam’s knee. “You can sleep whenever you'd like, trust me. I won't get mad like your daddy.” He said, smiling. 

Sam only nodded and settled down against the door of the truck, positioning himself as comfortably as possible and was lulled to sleep by Dean’s gentle breathing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! Soooo sorry for making you wait almost a month :( I had intense testing, and basically my time was spent studying like a maniac or at school. But to sort of reward you, you let a longer chapter! hope you enjoy, feel free to comment! I read/reply to every one ^^

Sam giggled as Dean ran into the blue house with him, immediately plopping down on the couch by the window. Bobby’s house was so comfy compared to the dingy motels they usually stayed in, and the boys even had their own room dedicated to them for whenever they stayed. Dean’s bed even had a Kansas City Chiefs bedspread that he had gotten a few years back, while Sam had a world map throw and a pale yellow comforter, along with matching yellow pillows. Even though the beds were simple mattresses on the floor, they were theirs. Not anyone else had ever slept on them but the boys, and that made them special. 

Sam climbed up onto the couch next to Dean with a kid’s book, placing it down in his lap. “Read to me?” He asked. Sam loved being read to, especially by Dean. John would always make excuses, “I'm busy, Sammy,” “It's too late at night,” “Maybe later.” Dean would always drop what he was doing to read to him, no matter what. 

Dean smiled and nodded, making Sam grin and cuddle close into his side. Dean opened the book and started to read. 

“Red fish, blue fish. One fish, two fish,” Dean read,   
sometimes stumbling over words, receiving help every once in awhile from Bobby, who was smiling and leaning against the doorframe. Sam would point at the pictures and describe them from time to time. 

“Fat fish has a yellow hat!” he giggled, pressing a small finger to the page. 

“Yep, good job Sammy!” He ruffled his hair. Bobby pushed off of the frame and sat next to the Winchester boys, wrapping an arm around the both of them in a tight hug. 

“It's gettin’ late, you two should take a bath. Does that sound good?” He suggested, to which both of the little ones nodded eagerly. They hadn't bathed in weeks. “Alrighty. I'll be up in a sec.” 

Sam and Dean got upstairs as fast as they could, awaiting the pleasantness of being clean. Dean pushed open the bathroom door just as Bobby came up behind them. He turned the handle, filling the bath with warm water. Sam reached a tiny hand into the tub, smiling at the temperature. He undressed and Bobby set him in gently. Dean followed, climbing into the paradise. He sighed happily and leaned back, letting the water run through his dirty-blonde hair. 

“Enjoying it I see, huh Dean?” Bobby grinned as he began to wash Sam’s hair. Dean nodded reached for a bottle of soap, lathering it through his shaggy hair and then rinsing it out. “You're doing a good job, Dean. I'm proud of you.” Bobby said. 

“Thank you, Uncle Bobby!” Dean beamed, he loved being praised. It made him feel special. Even if was for something stupid, like being able to wash your hair, it was good to be recognized. 

They finished washing and Bobby gave them warm, fluffy towels to dry off with. Sam wrapped himself up, his shaggy locks dripping now-cold water to the tile floor. Dean shook his head, spraying water all over the bathroom. 

“Dean.” Bobby glared. Dean gulped and bowed his head. 

“Sorry sir…” he whispered. He held out a wrist to Bobby, who sighed. 

“I'm not gonna hit ya, boy. Just be careful next time.” He patted Dean's outstretched arm. “There's some clothes for you guys on your beds, go get dressed and ready for bed. I can read if you guys want.” The boys nodded, running to their room. Dean pulled on the soft flannel pajamas that he kept at Bobby’s house, climbing into the bed. He tugged up the comforter and snuggled into the blankets. 

“Alrighty, boys, what do you wanna read?” Bobby sat on the corner of Sam's bed with a couple books. Sam crawled over and looked at them.

“That one!” He pointed to a leather bound book at the bottom of the stack. 

“Uh, that's my hunting journal, I'm not really sure you'd wanna read that… I didn't mean to grab it.” He said, tossing the journal to the side. 

“Please Uncle Bobby?” Sam looked up at him with his puppy dog eyes. No one could resist. 

“That okay with you, Dean?” Bobby asked. 

Dean nodded. “Mhm.” 

“Oh, alright. At least it's educational.” He picked it up, opening it to a random page. “Banshees. Okay.” Bobby read until Sam and Dean were both fast asleep, praying he didn't give them nightmares. 

They slept comfortably for a while, until Sam had one of his regular nightmares. He woke up crying and sweating, yelling that something was burning him. He was still traumatized by the fire even though he didn't consciously remember it, and he'd have nightmares around twice a week. 

Dean shot up and stumbled to Sam’s bed, wrapping his arms around his shoulders protectively. “You're okay, Sammy, it was a dream… You don't need to worry…” he whispered, pulling him closer. Sam shook violently and balled Dean’s shirt in his fists. 

Bobby came running in, throwing open the door. “What's wrong, Dean?!” He shouted, worried. 

“He had a nightmare…” he cradled Sam. “About the fire…” he breathed. 

“...Oh, will he be okay?” He crouched next to the bed, running his fingers through Sam’s hair. Dean nodded. “Alright. Good. Do you want me to take him for a bit?” 

“Sure.” He let go of Sam, who whined and clung tighter. “C’mon, go with Bobby.” 

Sam looked up, eyes wide and cheeks wet with tears. “D-De…” he pressed himself closer, gripping him with all of his strength. 

“Uh, I don't think he's gonna go…” Dean said, and Bobby sighed a little. 

“That's alright. He seems more calm around you, anyways. You're a good big brother, Dean. I want you to remember that.” Bobby wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulder and squeezed him. “You think you can handle it? I'll be right down the hall if you need anything.” He asked. 

“Mhm. Thank you.” Dean said, stroking Sam’s back. Bobby smiled and left the room. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah… I love you, De…” Sam said sleepily. Dean smiled and hugged him tighter. “I can go to bed now.” 

“Okay.” Dean let go and Sam crawled under the blankets. He slid off the bed and climbed up into his own, resting his head on the soft pillows. After a few minutes of watching Sam, he was sure he was asleep, so he closed his eyes. 

•two years later•

As the boys and Bobby sat at the table, eating cereal and toast, the phone rang. Bobby looked over, it was his home phone, not one of his fake FBI numbers or such. He picked it up. “What do you want?” He grumbled, mouth still full of cereal. His eyes widened and he swallowed. “John? Is that really you? I thought you were dead!!” Dean looked up and put down his spoon.

“Dad?” He said quietly, and Bobby nodded. 

“Tonight? Pretty short notice, don't you think? After two fucking years?!” He paused. “Alright, alright. I know. Quit your yappin’. I'll have them ready at six.” He sighed. “Drive safe, John.” He hung up the phone. 

“Dad’s coming?” Dean smiled, eyes bright. Bobby forced a smile and nodded. 

“Yep, he's gonna be here around six thirty tonight. He says he missed you two.” Bobby told them. “Two years…” he muttered. He didn't understand how those boys loved that man so much, he was horrible to them, a terrible excuse for a father. If he had it his way, he would have had the kids stay with him till they were old enough to live on their own. But John somehow loved his kids, and they loved him, so it had to be John’s way. 

“Daddy’s taking us back…?” Sam looked up, looking strangely melancholy. Dean nodded excitedly. 

“Aren't you happy?” He tilted his head, scrutinizing Sam’s face. Sam stared back at him and shrugged. 

“Daddy yells at you… And me, sometimes…” Sam muttered, glancing back at Bobby and sinking down into the chair. 

“Sam…” Dean clenched his teeth. He was mad at Sam, for the first time in what seemed like forever. “You have to be happy that Dad’s coming back. He's your father. You have to be…” 

Sam glared up at his brother. “No I don't!” He shouted. Bobby stood. 

“Enough, you two.” He barked. Dean bowed his head and answered with his usual ‘yessir.’ Sam, however, wasn't so inclined to follow orders this time around. 

“No! It's my choice!” He yelled back at Bobby, sliding off his chair. “Daddy isn't nice.”

Dean looked appalled and stared at Bobby, expecting him to intervene. He didn't. He sat, watching. “Bobby!! What the hell?! Sam has to love dad, right?! He has to want him to come home! He has to!” Dean practically screamed, fists on the table, standing up from his chair. 

Sam squeezed the edges of his seat, biting the inside of his cheek until it bled. His eyes welled with tears, but he kept on a stern face. He opened his mouth to speak, and a trickle of red spilled from his lips. “Shut up.” He breathed. 

Dean kicked his chair over, storming around the kitchen, hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair. “Dammit, Sam! You don't get it!! You're too young to get it!!” 

“I'm five! I can understand plenty!” He clutched the chair so hard his knuckles turned bone white. 

“It’s been two years!” Dean screeched, kicking over an end table. Bobby was about to shout, when Sam stood. 

“Exactly!! That's why!!” He shouted at his brother. “I’ve never had a normal father, and even I know that two years is too long!” A tear slipped down his face. “Kids in my class complain about their dads being gone for a week.” 

Dean saw the tear catch the light, and he went quiet. “Sam…” the younger brother turned in his chair and laid his head on the table, arms crossed in front of it. His back rose and fell sporadically. Dean inched quietly towards him and touched his shoulder, and Sam shook him off. 

“Don't touch me.” He whimpered. Dean sat next to him and watched him for a while, then turned to Bobby. The man sighed, reaching out to pat Dean’s shoulder. 

“He’ll be okay. Give him some space.” He said quietly. Sam shivered, and Dean looked at the floor. He stood and slunk upstairs, avoiding eye contact with Bobby, and locked himself in their shared room. “Sam? I just want you to know I… feel the same way about your dad. But Dean really loves him, so try to be more open-minded about it with him, okay?” 

Sam nodded a tiny bit, head still down. Bobby ran a hand through his soft brown hair. “I'm gonna miss you…” Sam whispered, leaning into the touch. 

“I know. It's okay. I'll see you soon, now go pack. And make sure your brother's okay.” Bobby prompted, and Sam obliged. He trotted up the stairs and knocked on their door. 

“Dean?” He said quietly, shifting his weight between his two feet. “I'm sorry…” 

“Leave me alone.”


End file.
